I delivered a mini Kirtan Standards course to the devotees of Deland. Some helpful hints in the matter of conscious kirtan can’t go wrong in steering chanters in the right direction. I saw the hard copy of Jayadwaita Swami’s book on the subject on the stand for sale. I grabbed it and used the text as a reference for selling the content’s concepts to the attendees. Afterall, the objective is to follow in the footsteps of the previous teachers. It was appreciated.
Speaking of footsteps, I’
I have never seen such a large pool of blood within the confines of our walls at 243 Avenue Road. Our head priest (pujari), Brahma, entered the temple at 3:40 AM, and when he reached the bottom of the stairs, a blood vessel burst at the base of his leg.
Fortunately, our young men of the Bhakti Academy assisted him, cleaned him, and hurried him to Mount Sinai Hospital for treatment and advice. Brahma then returned when the Academy head, Visahka, and her husband, Punya, drove him back home.
Thoughts of the wildfire in Los Angeles are reeling in my mind as I walk the dark early hours. My mantras are prayers of concern and help for the many victims. It is a very troubled world.
Meanwhile, the world is quiet here on Kwatta Street going westbound. The occasional car comes by. There is no honking or any agitation from motorists who are viewing the four of us in dhotis on a narrow two-lane in single file. Dogs barking is occasional. Once the sun hints at rising, we see Indian co
My flight to Trinidad and Tobago was with Caribbean Airlines, boarding in Toronto. The distinguishable hummingbird insignia, flying backwards and flapping at high speed, was my lead to the proper queue.
I was surprised that devotees who booked me put me on business class seat 1A. That was kind of them. When the flight attendant came around asking for a preferred breakfast, I made it clear, “No animals!” Anyways, she got it.
When I went through customs at Port Au Spain, I handed in my form.
I’m on a crystal thawing trail
At the state before snowmelt in Cedarvale
My footstep makes a splash in the slush
You just cannot trudge in a rush
I take careful baby steps moving in time
To avoid a slip and a fall and getting out of the rhyme
I’m accidentally creating some jazz music
Which could turn into some hopeful classic
With a crunch, crunch in snow, a swish, swish in slush
In the dreamy dark night everything is hushed
There is even some ominous fog setting in
I hear other footsteps which
There’s a first time for everything - your first time to receiving mother’s milk, your first footsteps, first day at school, first time at a job, first love etc.
For our Bhakti Academy group one of our graduates, Nityananda, performed his first havan, or fire ceremony and it was done as a first amongst the group. I am personally very proud of him. I believe it to be a beginning of a new phase where, more yajnas or sacrifices will be executed by a younger generation. I perceive a new wave of g
The Maritime pilgrimage goes on. Three cities covered today.
It started in Fredericton on the north side. My travel companion, Nityananda and I, hit a new trail which led us to the location where dozens and dozens of boys were at baseball practice, and at 8 in the morning. Not bad for sleep-in Sunday morning. These kids weren’t exactly attending church, but you could see they were serious about something of value – better than doing games on their devices.
They weren’t sure what to make of
Off to the east we go. Nityananda and I embarked on a flight to Fredericton and then a car ride, compliments of Vyas. It was a year ago that this man of good company took diksha or initiation and he is doing well as the co-ordinator for the local Krishna community. He drove us to the city of St. John and the Irving Nature Park for a 7 kilometre coastline trail walk.
As soon as we hit that lovely trail our nostrils were aroused with effervescent fragrances of soft wood trees and wild flowers. Wh
My final step before turning back to home, back to ashram, was on a park bench at the park, when a young man, James sat next to me.
"I'm just waiting for some buddies," he informed me. "Your day is full?" he asked.
"Yes, quite. I'm Bhaktimarga Swami. Swami for short."
"I'm James Ensley." We shook hands and it didn't end there. Like most people, meeting a monk is a first, let alone a walking monk.
I had a similar exchange just a few minutes before. I was sitting down to chant my gayatri ma
The Bluffs, situated at the west coast of Lake Ontario, are a real gem to visit. The cliffs and accompanying what appears like huge ant hills are a sight to see, so for our Tuesday morning outing, our local Bhakti Academy students and I went for some hours to explore. The beach is clean, so is the water, the trails and trees are a paradise. The peninsulas formed (by man) are pleasant parks and to some degree protect the bluffs from erosion. The natural beauty and the human implementation are a
The great pious king, Yudhistira, answered the pressing question, "What is the most wondrous thing in the world?" And here is what he said, "Everywhere, all around me, people are dying yet those of us who make this observation, feel that they will not perish. This is the greatest wonder."
Does that mean that something inside us will indeed persist through lifetimes?
I was saddened to hear that one of my leading men in my drama productions in Argentina passed away from kidney cancer. Matsya
Paul took a mighty amount of pictures
Of the crew that are now temple fixtures
The group is called Bhakti Academy Toronto
BAT for short and devotion is their motto
They took a brisk walk at Park Ramsden
A decent decision, a wise acumen
Catching sun rays and viewing squirrels
They are a combination of boys and girls
The zig zag trail can make one quite woozy
But mantra can anchor any tendency to be bluesy
The walk became an exercise, wholesome and sweet
Up the stairs, down the switchback, f
Last October I took a trip to France to visit a farm called New Mayapura. When we landed, the passengers were queuing up to deplane. I met Rick and his wife. In the small world we live in, our chat revealed that we both live on the same street in Toronto, which is Avenue Rd. Surprise!
Rick said, "I go by your temple every day. Now that we met I'll have to come by. I gave Rick a copy of, "The Saffron Path,", who expressed that he was an author himself. Well, Rick finally made it to our buildi
Carlos is my shiatsu therapist and since my last knee surgery two years ago, I see him by appointment from time to time. After a gap I had the pleasure of having this expert work on me. After that one hour session I really didn't want it to end. Jokingly he remarked, "you are my last client for the day, just stay on the cot until I come back tomorrow morning."
"Thanks!"
However, my thoughts lingered to the other responsibilities I have. An example: every Wednesday I do a "Gita Chat" zoom c
I accepted the offer by kind Rsabh for the interview on "The Avilash Podcast".This meant a trip to his apartment in Brampton where he has a set up studio for such a program, He asked questions that naturally would be of interest to his audience, queries about what would hasten the public to ask, "What's a westerner doing living the life of a monk?" "Why the long walks".
So, for a full hour my interviewer and I went on to describe a journey, my own personal one, in meeting renunciates traveling
On May 30th, 1845, a ship landed at the Trinidad shoreline with a massive group of indentured labourers from India. They were promised by the British a life of labour and love. Love was somewhat questionable, because life, at the time, was one of great sacrifice. A century later, one of those pious Hindu fellows, from that strain, asked for permission to build a temple. Authorities said, “No!” The man’s name was Sadhu Seva.
He decided to build a small peninsula by bringing stone after stone,
Patience was tested with airlines. “Delay” was the common word. Passengers even made their way to board the plane. We sat for two hours inside with a promising “ready to go” when (out of the blue) we were assigned to “deplane” and “come back later.” I was quite impressed with people’s tolerance level. There is always something to be learned from others and it doesn’t always come out of a book or one’s personal guru. Messages are heard (or should be heard) from all angles. God, as guru, is every
Although some people consider me a nomad, always travelling to somewhere, I’m actually rather grounded by having a home base. This permits me to see people repeatedly, and Wayne, a super artist, who lives up the street on Roxborough, is a regular. He wears this distinguished hat with a wide brim, so I can spot him from many metres away. He’s gone through about three different dog-pet reincarnations. What’s different now is he uses a walker to get around in the park. Still, he’s Wayne, a nice n
The anniversary of the great dialogue between Krishna and Arjuna. The anchor person to this sublime conversation is someone by the name of Sanjaya, who is quite in a blissful state when relating it to the blind king, Dhrtarastra. Here’s how he felt in Sanskrit:
rajan samsmrtya samsmrtya
samvadam imam adbhutam
keshavarjunayoh punyam
hrsyami ca muhur muhuh
“Oh, King, as I repeatedly recall this wondrous and holy dialogue between Krishna and Arjuna, I take pleasure, being thrilled at every moment.
